Resurgence
by I-am-the-survivor
Summary: Melinda wakes in a morgue with little to no memory as to how she got there. Her only clue is the broken bits of information provided to her by the coroner, Phil Coulson. All she knows is she was murdered and she has to stop the people who killed her from doing it again. Even if it means she has to help Coulson find his missing daughter along the way.
1. Transformation

**It is I, your local bisexual spider-man back again to ignore the canon events of what's going on in favor of an AU. This story is very loosely based around the movie Rise: Blood Hunter so yes, this is a vampire AU. This story is going to be rated M for graphic depictions of violence and some heavy subjects in later chapters. Feel free to skip this next paragraph if you don't want to read some sappy shit XD**

 **This fic was written for one of my best friends, Gwyn, as a Christmas gift. She's helped me through a shit ton this year even if she couldn't be around all the time. She gave me some of my favorite moments to treasure this year and to be honest I think the GC has been the only times I laughed so hard that I cried in a whiiile. She's been by my side for 3(?) years now and is still one of my favorite people in the world. She completely changed who I was in the best way possible and I'm not sure where or who I'd be without her. Merry Christmas 3**

Melinda lets out a long huff beginning the trek back to her car. Parked a little off ways from where she began thanks to an idiot who thought he could outrun her. As if. She pulls her jacket tighter against her body in the frigid December air. She bid her team goodnight after Hand forced her to leave after being up for thirty-two straight hours trying to crack the case. Not her fault she wanted to get the kid home to her mother before Christmas.

Her step falters as a man steps out from behind the shadows a gun pointed at her. "Give me your money." He demands. She lets out a long sigh. She's really not in the mood for any of this right now. She has at least six hours to get home and sleep before she needs to be up in the morning to interrogate their newest suspect.

"You really… really don't want to do this." She groans hands up by her head.

"Do it." The man commands in a gruff and slightly slurred tone. "Now, bitch."

"Since you asked so nicely," She shrugs. In a quick move she smacks the gun away with one hand and catches the same wrist with the other. The gun skitters across the concrete as she twists the man's arm behind his back pinning him against the wall in the alley he slowly had backed her into. She jerks his arm further gritting her teeth as he lets out a cry of pain. "Are you going to get lost now?" She growls in his ear. The drunken man nods tears streaming down his cheeks. "Are you going to do this again?" He hesitates and Melinda slams him against the wall, not enough to hurt him but enough to startle him. He shakes his head as much as he can in his position.

She throws him on the ground watching him skitter to his feet and run away. As she turns back towards the street from which she came she sees two figures standing in the light of the street lamp.

"Don't worry about it." She says in a monotone voice. "I'm a cop. I got this covered." One of the figures shift revealing a pistol in his grip. She moves to dive out of the way but not quick enough. She cries out as the shot goes off connecting with her right knee. She braces herself against the wall as she pulls her own gun. She flicks on her radio calling out to her team. "I need dispatch on my location. Two suspects, one is armed and I am injured."

"Hang in there Melinda, I'm on my way." Hill calls through her radio. She fires a shot into the armed man's shoulder and it flies back quickly disarming him. She grunts as she forces herself to run in the opposite direction. Her leg screams out in pain nearly giving on several occasions. Her heart sinks as she runs into a chain link fence. There's not a chance in hell she can climb this thing in time.

She turns again pointing her gun at the two figures. In the dim light of the night now she can distinguish a man and woman. The man has short dark black hair and pale skin. The woman looks almost identical except her hair is long and pulled back into a high tight ponytail. She takes a combat stance ready to fight it out until Maria can reach her. She throws the first punch making connection with the man's chest causing him to stumble a bit. The woman, however, catches her arm before she can pull back twisting and throwing her against the brick with ease.

Melinda coughs, the air knocked from her lungs. Her head spins with the effort to stay awake but her body won't quite listen to her commands. Her movements are sluggish like she's trying to swim through honey. Her limbs feel weighed down and black spots appear in the corners of her vision.

One of the figures, she's not sure which at this point, yanks her up by the collar and pushes her against the wall. She cries out as she feels something puncture the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Her body feels heavier the longer they hold on. When they finally release her the pressure returns seconds later more intense and painful than before. Her arms goes numb as does her legs. The screeching pain from her bullet wound is replaced by unbearable exhaustion.

Light bathes the dark alleyway. At first she's not sure if this is the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel people talk about. She's pretty sure she should be comforted by the sight or bathed in warmth or some bullshit like that but she still just feels tired.

She realizes the light is very real as the pressure gives away and her body crashes to the ground. The sound of the two figures running away echoes through the alley.

"Hey!" Maria's voice calls after them. She goes to follow when her eyes fall on her fallen partner. "Oh my god Melinda!" She drops by her side pressing her jacket against the profusely bleeding wound on her throat. "Hey look at me hey." Melinda's eyes flutter as she looks up at Maria, shrouded in the light of the headlights.

"Ma-" She gasps suddenly as the pain returns in full force. Her neck and leg thrum in the quick panicked beat of her heart. She's going to die here.

"Shh. It's okay. I'm here. Eyes on me okay?" Maria nods keeping the pressure despite her writhing. Melinda hears a second voice, likely that of Bobbi Morse, the newest member of their team, giving the location for the ambulance. "Stay awake Melinda."

"The people…"

"Got away. I'm sorry. You're our first priority." Maria smiles softly. She shifts her she can better put pressure. Melinda calls out in pain as she bumps into her injured leg. "Shit." The younger woman murmurs. Her voice is quieter though. Almost as if hearing it through water. The tired feeling returns slowly.

"She's losing too much blood." Bobbi's voice is laced with worry. She can't stay awake any longer… She needs to sleep. She lets her body sink into the feeling of the depth pulling at her.

"No!" Her partner shouts clinging to her tighter than before. Melinda tries to murmur out an apology. "May…. ambulance… here."

She gives herself away to the darkness willingly. She's already accepted that she was going to die. She welcomes the silence like an old friend falling deeply into its embrace.


	2. Repetition

**And I am back once more. Life got a wee bit hectic especially in the time of returning to classes for this semester. Anyways enjoy!**

Melinda jerks awake with a gasp only to be met with complete darkness. Where is she? How the hell did she get here? She wracks her mind searching for something, anything. Any possible situation. She shuts her eyes once more trying to calm herself. Panic would get her nowhere.

There was the missing child case. An eight year old girl named Robin mysteriously ran away from home a few months after the equally mysterious death of her father. The case got worse after an alert that a civilian had spotted Robin with shorter hair and a man who didn't match the description of any family member. Hill proposed that it may be the same child kidnapping ring that they'd been following for three months. They'd tracked a lead only to come up with a dead end. Hand commanded her to go home as she'd been up for hours on end searching for that lead. She remembers walking back to her car and then… nothing.

She reaches a hand out carefully only to come in contact with cold metal only inches from her face. Reaching out the the sides and above her yields the same results. The box she is contained in is far too narrow to even sit up so she kicks below her. She smiles slightly finding that the bottom has more give than the rest. She kicks again realizing now that not only is she barefoot but she's completely naked, only a thin sheet covering her. She'll kick ass for that later.

She braces her hands at the top of the box kicking with all of her might. She lets out a gasp as the table underneath her suddenly slides out. Her eyes meet with very startled blue ones as she's suddenly plunged into unbearably bright light.

"Oh my god." The voice says. The shadowed figure shucks off his jacket covering her up quickly. Once her eyes adjust she takes in her surroundings. The scene is incredibly familiar as she realizes she hasn't, in fact, been taken hostage but rather she's in a morgue.

"What the hell." She croaks. Her voice aches from disuse as she falls into a coughing fit. The man, who she can only assume is the coroner, rushes to the sink filling a cup with water before delivering it to her.

"I don't understand. This shouldn't be possible." He stares at her half in confusion and half in wonder. She clutches his suit jacket tighter to her with her free hand, greedily drinking the water with the other. "You were…" His eyes fall on her knee for some reason. She places the cup down wishing she could pull away from his gaze. "Do you remember anything? Who you are?"

"I'm Melinda May, I'm a cop, I was on a case but now I'm here." She states simply. "How did I get here." Her eyes fall on the badge pinned to his dress shirt, "Phil Coulson." The man awkwardly adjusts his sleeves trying to maintain the little bit of professionalism he has left. She takes note that it's probably not every day that he opens one of these things to find a living person.

"You were attacked. You were bleeding out in alley and you were confirmed legally dead on the scene." Melinda lets out a shaky breath clinging to the table. She died…

"Who found me?" Her fingers shake as she tries so hard to remember.

"Your partner, Maria Hill and Bobbi Morse. They left after your bo… you were dropped off here." Her eyes well up with tears. To find her like that must have been devastating. Why the fuck can't she remember any of it? She must've gotten shot or something…

"How?"

"What?"

"How did I die?" She asks. "You said I bled out but not how."

"Well…" He sighs flipping open the chart. "That's what's confusing I suppose." He picks up a folder lying on a nearby table before handing it to her. She clenches her teeth preparing herself before flipping open the manilla folder. The first few are typical of case files; the photo of a gun by a brick wall, her crushed radio lying next to a dumpster. Her heart sinks as she flips to the next photo. It's her alright, eyes staring at the sky seeing absolutely nothing. Blood surrounds her neck and head. As she narrows her eyes it almost looks like the blood had come from a bite wound. She shakes the shiver out before flipping to the next photo. It's a full body shot this time and she can make out another red stain on her knee.

Subconsciously her fingers drift to her knee only to find the smooth skin there completely undamaged. A flash of pain echoes through her body, she flinches as though burned. The pain still burns despite there being no wound. "What happened to me?" She whispers in shock.

"Well, I'm not going to lie when I first heard the pounding I was absolutely positive I was in a zombie apocalypse." She can't help the smile that twitches at her lips. He's trying, god help him.

"Could I…" She gestures to herself. The room is still pretty frigid even under the suit jacket and sheet. He seems to catch onto what she means moving to a locker with his head down. He pulls a to go bag out of a locker against a wall. She gives him an odd look and he shrugs.

"It's a colleague's. I'm sure Sharon will understand when I explain to her." He rubs the back of his neck with an apologetic smile. "The bathroom is out the door on your left. Nobody else is here so don't worry about being caught without a badge."

"Here alone on a Friday night?"

"It's Sunday." She groans again realizing she's missed two days of her life being presumed dead. "At least it'll be a good Thanksgiving story." He tries for a joke but it falls flat in the tense air. Her family thought she was dead. How the hell is she even supposed to explain this to them? "Go change. I'll wait here." She nods at the command too entrapped in her thoughts to argue.

Her bare feet patter against the cold tile in the aching silence. Two days… She rakes her hand through her hair separating the tangled strands. She finds herself in the restroom peering at her reflection. Her eyes fall on the red mark on her collarbone. It's faded like a scar that happened years ago. Yet she's never had a scar there, she keeps good track of them she'd know.

Melinda shrugs the jacket off, a wallet bouncing out of the pocket and falling open. Two smiles look up at her from the white tiles. She picks it up slowly staring at the photo. The man is obviously Coulson. Even with the glasses perched on his nose she recognizes him. The girl next to him, however, is unfamiliar. To be fair she just met the man.

The girl looks like a teenager, probably 17 or 18. At least from what she can tell in the photo that's how she looks. Her long dark hair falls over her shoulders bangs hanging across her forehead. It's funny, she looks nothing like him.

She snaps the wallet shut suddenly at the loud knock. "Hey are you alright in there?" She didn't even realize she was lingering for so long. She gets dressed quickly in the leisure wear checking herself in the mirror. It's a simple t-shirt and leggings that are far too long on her. She still doesn't has shoes but at least she has clothes. She's been in worse situations.

She gathers his jacket and the sheet off the floor yanking open the door with a muttered apology. She hands him the items to him with eyes cast to the floor. "Thanks for the clothes. I'll get them back I promise."

"I'll explain the situation to Sharon. Not that she'll believe it but honestly what other excuse would I have?" He smiles down at her shrugging his jacket back on. He leads her back into the morgue to return the sheets but she can't bring herself to enter. It's not as if she hadn't been in one before. Often the job had called for attending examinations with their detectives but it's different now. When she was laying on the table… When it was her rather than some faceless corpse. "Are you okay?" His eyes are on her now, carefully looking over her. So much compassion from an utter stranger.

She shivers in the cold air rubbing her hands over her arms. "You have a daughter." She says suddenly wishing to turn the topic off her for once.

"How did you know?"

"You left your wallet in your jacket. It fell open when I was getting changed."

"Yeah." He teases. "It fell open." She narrows her eyes at him and his mouth snaps shut under her glare. Yet the sparkle of mirth is gone from his eyes. "I do but…" He swallows heavily his eyes focused on the wall beside her. "She's been missing for a year."

"I'm sorry." She sighs shutting her eyes tightly. "I shouldn't have intruded."

"No don't worry." He smiles sadly. "Daisy left one night angry at me. I… She said she was going to go find her real parents and never came back."

"Real parents?"

"I adopted her after she hacked into my radio signal while on a case. She was only 12 and a scrawny little thing too."

"A case?" She asks with a small smirk on her lips. "You're a man of many mysteries Phil Coulson."

"You know normally I at least take a girl out on two dates before we're talking about our pasts." The teasing tone is back but there's none of the same punch behind it as before. It's a defense mechanism.

"I'm willing to bet you don't normally open one of those boxes to find a living person either. Nothing about this is normal."

"I used to work for the FBI." He shrugs. "A mission went sideways and I got shot in the chest. I had to get a heart transplant and I almost left Daisy without a father again." He settles back against a metal table. "I moved down to doing autopsies. Lot less likely that I'm going to get shot by corpses."

Questions still plague her mind but they're better left unanswered. The air is heavy with revelations between the two of them. "I'd hate to ask you for another favor but could you give me a ride home?" She shuffles awkwardly leaning against the doorframe. "I'd drive myself but I'd say it's a good bet that my wallet and keys are somewhere in an evidence closet."

"Yeah let me just." He whips out his phone, likely texting someone to let them know he's leaving. "Let's go." She follows him to a red convertible to which she just raises an eyebrow. "What? It's a classic."

"It's December." She says. God how it must have felt to get news days before Christmas that your daughter is dead. Bitterness clutches at her heart with fire thrumming through her veins. She'll find answers to this.

"Are you cold?" He passes her his jacket again. She's beginning to wonder if he's the strange one rather than her. Who the hell drives a convertible around in late December?

"No just judging your life choices." She jumps into the passenger's seat just aching to get home already. Apparently being dead for two days is still incredibly exhausting. She can fall into bed to the sounds of the street outside. Tomorrow she'll go to work and figure out what the hell happened to her. Surely someone has answers.

Phil catches her hand before she has the chance to get out of the car. He passes her a slip of paper with his number scrawled haphazardly on it.

"Is this your way of saying third date is on?" She mocks raising his eyebrow.

"In case you need something. Stay safe Melinda." His tone is far too serious sending another chill down her spine. She only nods giving a quick squeeze to his hand. He waits until she's safely in the apartment before pulling away. She walks up to the desk but sure enough nobody is there. Leave it to them to slack off when she needs it.

She sighs going back outside. Scaling the fire escape she makes it up to her floor. With a deep breath she heaves herself at the window breaking the glass with her elbow. With a sigh she settles against the wall taking in the familiar surroundings. A vase of flowers sits on the counter that was definitely not there before.

She has no time to linger. Surely her neighbor heard the glass break and the police would be on their way soon. The last thing she needs is to be arrested on the day she wakes up in a morgue. She works quickly grabbing all the clothes she needs as well as three burner phones she's stashed in her drawer and the wad of cash she taped underneath her bed frame. She hesitates before she ends up taking her pistol from her desk as well. She shoves her stuff into her bag before slipping out again. She's running from the building just as the sirens begin to echo in the distance.

She waits until she's far enough away before she dials the number on the paper.

"Hello?"

"Hey." She huffs trying to catch her breath. "It's me."

"You know I've always dreamed of getting a call from an unknown number and hearing that. Are you going to threaten my life or are we about to go on a grand adventure?" She can hear the smirk in Phil's tone even over the phone.

"I need a place to stay tonight. Just one night."

"Did something happen?" His tone is serious yet again and she swears she can hear him turning around in his car. Damn that man and all his compassion. She'd just met him hours ago and he already cares for her more than she is comfortable with.

"I'm fine. The desk guy at my apartment is slacking off again. I can find somewhere else don't worry…" Actually it's very unlikely. Hotels had to be packed because of the Christmas season. Everyone is visiting family.

"Please May." He begs. "Let me help. Like you said it's just for tonight and I have an extra guest room."

"Thanks." She sighs. She'd figure out where to go from here tomorrow. Right now all she can picture is hitting a bed and getting some damn sleep.

"Help!" The cry has her blood running cold as she stops in the middle of her tracks. "Help me!"

"What the hell…" She murmurs.

"May was that-"

"Yeah." She says quietly as not to give away her position. The cry is close, just around the corner. Her fingers fall on her pistol as she creeps closer.

"Hold on May. I'm almost back there just stay put."

"I'm going in." She mutters.

"You just woke up in a morgue after a failed mugging and now you're going to help someone else possibly being mugged or worse?"

"I have to do something." Her mind buzzes with possibilities. This could be the same man who attacked her. If so then she could catch him. She could figure out what the hell happened to her if she had to beat it out of him.

"May… Don't be a hero." She hangs up the phone without another word. She lines herself against the brick wall, the cold penetrating her even through the layers. She takes a deep breath closing her eyes as she gathers herself.

She counts to three before rounding the corner.


	3. Realization

**Back again a lot sooner this time because the muse hit quickly with this chapter. I'm so appreciate of the positive feedback I got for the last chapter. I've been in a slump writing wise and I finally feel like I've gotten my mojo back (*knocks on wood*). Thanks so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Melinda rounds the corner quietly taking in the sight in front of her. Two figures stand on the far end of the alleyway. A taller man pins a woman against a wall with a bulky arm pressed against her throat. The man is a good five inches taller than the woman hovering over her as she cries for help.

"Hey!" She calls out bringing attention to herself. She points her pistol at the man glaring at him. The man twists pulling the young girl in front of him pressing the blade of his knife to her throat.

"Help me please." The girl cries. She doesn't look to be barely over 20. Dark eyes plead with her even in the dim light of the mood. She grits her teeth now stepping even closer out of the shadows of the brick wall.

"No." The man whispers pulling her even tighter. "You leave me the hell alone!"

"Let the girl go." She demands.

"You're not bringing those psychos back to me! Not again! I paid my debts!" His words slur and she briefly wonders if he's under some kind of alcohol induced hallucinations. She's never seen this man in her life.

"Let the girl go." She repeats stepping even closer.

"Fine!" He shoves the girl to the ground holding up his knife. "But you tell Ward and his gang that we're through. Not my fault they didn't get to finish the job before the cops found you." He insists again. He turns to run but Melinda is on him in an instant. She grabs the drunkard by the collar shoving him against the brick.

"You were there last night." She seethes. The memories are still too stubborn to come back to her. She can't bring any to light. "What the hell happened?"

The man lets out a wheezing laugh lips splitting into a sarcastic grin. "You're shitting me right?" She shoves him again rougher this time, forcing the air from his lungs. "Hive got you sweetheart. They lured me in and paid off my tab 'fore I got into a fight with the bartender when the bastard cut me off. Their price was to distract you."

"Why me?" She growls.

"Dunno." His eyes harden now as he suddenly sobers. "But I ain't sticking around to ask." He flips her quickly catching her while she's off guard. He smacks the gun out of her hand sending it skittering across the floor. One hand comes to clench around her throat while the other presses the knife to her stomach. "Do you know how much trouble you have caused me." She considers spitting in his face calculating her next move when suddenly a gunshot blasts through the air.

The man's eyes widen as he suddenly falls limp against her. "Oh my god." A meek voice whimpers. The girl stands with shaking hands as she carefully drops the pistol on the ground once more. "I meant to hit him in the shoulder. I didn't mean to." Melinda approaches the girl quickly being sure to kick the gun out of the way first. "He was going to hurt you." She sobs tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Hey." Melinda soothes holding a hand out to touch the girl's shoulder gently. "What's your name?"

"J-Jemma Simmons." She sniffs. "I was on my way home from work when he pulled me into the alley. Said if I didn't give him my money he'd kill me. I didn't have my wallet but he didn't believe me and I- I!"

"Breathe." She insists forcing the girl to meet her eyes. "Breathe with me okay?" She takes slow breathes as the girl attempts to follow in suit. "I'm a cop okay? You'll be fine. I'll take care of it." She promises. The smell of copper quickly fills the air. Melinda bites her lip as it makes her head spin. Why the hell is this affecting her now? She's been an agent for 28 years and she's faced more than her fair share of bodies. "Go." She commands.

"But I-"

"Go!" Even to her the demand feels like a threat as the girl, Jemma, runs off to safety. Melinda's world tips as she walks to the body of the man who'd robbed her. She flips him over so he's facing the sky. She digs through his pockets with a frown. She almost laughs in success when she pulls out his wallet. She flips it open finding his ID staring back at her. "Sunil Bakshi." She reads aloud.

She tries to swallow as the sudden dryness of her throat becomes obvious to her. She takes another deep breath trying to soothe the aching in her chest but it only seems to make it worse. Her lungs feel like they're on fire as the smell of copper surrounds her. She wants to scream as her jaw aches. Anything to numb the pain. She has to make it stop. She needs to do something.

Her teeth dig into his shoulder as a ragged sob leaves her body. More pain blooms in the same spot on her so she digs her teeth in deeper. Memories flash before her closed eyes as the taste of his blood hits her tongue.

 _The failed mugging._

 _The gunshot._

 _Being thrown against a wall._

 _Teeth digging into her shoulder and wrist pulling until she felt like she was sinking forever._

 _Maria begging her to stay awake._

She pulls away suddenly trying to get as far away from the body as possible. Crimson covers her face and the front of her shirt. She needs to get it off. She needs to get away. She nearly trips over her own feet as she shoves his wallet into her pocket. She grabs her pistol as well as the bag she'd abandoned at the front of the alleyway when she came in. She runs as fast as she can until her lungs ache and her legs feel as though they're about to give out.

An incessant ringing breaks out over the thoughts rushing through her mind. She digs her phone out of her pocket answering.

"Melinda?" Phil's voice calls worriedly. "I've tried calling you six times. Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay." Again his stupid compassion. He's going to get himself hurt one day. "Melinda? Are you there?" She takes a deep breath leaning her burning forehead against the cool brick.

"Something's wrong."

 **Okay disclaimer, I realize Bakshi is WILDLY out of character. That I am positive of but to be honest I didn't even decide that the drunkard was Bakshi until he was dead. At that point I'd already published chapter one and just stuck to the fact that he was drunk and rolled with it. I also wanted to stick with someone Jemma canonly killed. So uhhh sorry?**


End file.
